


Exhaustion

by taylor_tut



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Depressed max, Depression, Fluff, Gen, Mental Health Issues, bipolar david, bipolar fic by a bipolar author, dadvid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 02:32:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14346117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: David is bipolar and having one of those depressive days where you just can't get out of bed. He's tired. Max might be tired, too. David understands. Sometimes you just need some rest.





	Exhaustion

Gwen rubbed her eyes tiredly. Normally David pulled most of the weight of camp responsibilities--well, all the time, but particularly in the mornings. But today, she was on her own.

She stood in front of the expectant campers and sighed heavily. How the fuck did David manage to be so chipper in the mornings? It was almost 10 am and Gwen still wanted to crawl back into bed. But she had to give David a day to do just that.    
“Alright, Campers,” she mustered up some fake enthusiasm that David would be proud of (if only because David was proud of anyone for making any effort ever.) “We’re going to change the plans a little bit. We’re going to put together a little bit of a show.” 

Preston gasped, clutching his chest like a Victorian woman who’s just seen a rat. “A show?!” he screeched. “What kind of show?!”

“Calm down, Shatner,” Max grumbled. 

Gwen smiled a bit. “It’s going to be a show featuring all of your… special talents,” she said, trying to picture what a cohesive show might look like with children from science camp to adventure camp to behavioral correction camp. “We’re going to perform it for David tonight after dinner.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Where is the idiot, anyway?” he asked. He’d known that it had been unusually quiet that morning, but he’d sort of hoped that David’s unusual absence had meant he’d been eaten by a wolf in the woods or squished like a pancake under the bus.

Her grimace gave away her concern even as she tried for a lighthearted tone. “David’s a bit under the weather today,” she admitted. “I was hoping that we could do something to make him feel better.”

“Under the weather?” Max echoed incredulously. “So what, he’s sick?” 

Gwen wanted just to say yes, and she’d told David as much, but he explicitly instructed her not to. He thought it’d worry the kids too much, and it wasn’t even true. 

“Not exactly,” she said, “but he’s… well, he could use some cheering up. So let’s get to it, huh?” She ushered the campers toward the main area and gathered the supplies they needed, keeping a particularly close eye on Max, whom she expected to sneak off and bother David. 

But Max seemed content to sit on the ground in front of Gwen’s watchful eye, obediently and innocently watching the others set up their acts for the show. He even answered questions about plot holes in a play for Preston, helped Dolph pick a color scheme for costumes, and unglued Neil from a piece of the set.

Gwen decided that maybe she’d underestimated the little shit.

“Hey, Max,” she called, clearly able to see that he was bored, “I have a special job for you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m ten, not three. You can call it a chore. What is it?”

A steadying breath. He was bitter, but David dealt with him with unwavering optimism every day, so she could manage it for one, right?

“I ran out of paper towels, and Nurf painted Harrison purple.” The argument between the two was building. “I clearly have to deal with them so they don’t kill each other, so can you go grab me a roll from the supply closet?”

Max took the key ring she held out. 

“The silver one with the puppy sticker will unlock it,” she said.

“David’s puppy sticker?” 

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Yeah. He said it brightened up the key ring.”

“Dumbass,” Max muttered. “I’ll be right back.”

Max did not head to the supply closet.

He’d known that he could wear Gwen down if he were patient and well-behaved, and it had worked. Instead of the supply closet, Max beelined toward David’s cabin.

Max pushed on the door, expecting it to open, but found it locked. Cursing, he fumbled with the keyring. 

Well, one of these has to work, right? Did Max really have the patience to try each one?

Three keys into his investigation, he heard rustling on the other side.

“Gwen? S’that you?” David asked, shuffling toward the door. Max chose not to reply, only shoving his hands into his pockets when David opened the door. “Max?” David asked, rubbing at one eye tiredly. “What’re you doing here?”

Max frowned. “More like what are YOU doing,” he returned, pointing an accusatory finger toward David’s chest. “You never miss a day of camp.”

“I told Gwen to tell you--”

“Yeah, yeah, that you’re ‘under the weather,’” Max interrupted, “but she also said you’re not sick.” Max looked him over, taking in his pale, tired face and the dark circles under his eyes. _“Are_ you sick? You look like shit.”

A tight smile pulled at David’s mouth as he sat back down on the bed. “No,” he replied, “just an off day.”

Max reached up suddenly, pressing a hand to David’s forehead. “Do you have a fever?” he asked. “I can’t tell.”

David shook his head. “No, Max; I told you, I’m not sick.”

“Then why are you holed up in your room sulking?”

David looked like he’d just barely bit back an angry reply. He sighed. Of all the kids, Max… Max was the one that he didn’t want to lie to.

Any of the other kids, he’d plaster on a smile, say he was fine, make up some story about a headache or a bad hamburger and toss them back out, promising to be back in ship shape the next day. 

But Max was different. Not only would he know better, but David was afraid that if he told Max a lie, that he’d immediately just be categorized into the huge-and-growing group of adults that didn’t care about him enough to be honest. 

“Take a seat,” David said. He reached to his nightstand and offered the box of Teddy Grahams, still mostly full. “Want some?” he offered. “Gwen gave them to me yesterday, but I haven’t felt much like eating.”

Max took a small handful from the bag, hoping David would do the same, but watched in dismay as he simply set the box back down where he’d gotten it. Damn, when he thought about it, David had been off yesterday, too. All week, really. 

“How sick are you?” Max asked, trying to will the anxiety out of his voice.

“It’s not…” David sighed. “I’m not ‘sick’ sick. My brain just doesn’t want to cooperate lately.”

Max quirked an eyebrow. “Does it ever?”

David actually laughed. “You can say that again,” he agreed.

Max squirmed. “So, brain problems… like…” Max hesitated. “Like what, exactly?” 

David didn’t quite know how to start the conversation. “Do you know what depression is?”

Max’s eyes went wide. “There’s no way you’re fuckin’ depressed,” he said, disbelief coloring his tone. “You’re the happiest person I’ve ever met. It’s gross.”

David nodded. “Normally, yeah. And I’m not… well, at least, not all the time.”

Max looked confused, nibbling on a teddy graham while he waited for David to continue. 

“I’m bipolar,” he said simply. “So sometimes I’m depressed, and sometimes I’m… the opposite.”

“Happy? Max tried. 

“Happy on steroids,” David replied. “But that’s a conversation for a different day. I’m tired.” He didn’t have the energy to really talk.

Uncomfortable silence followed, in which Max thought that David would fall asleep and David thought that Max would leave and neither of them were right.

“I’m tired too,” Max said quietly, “at least, I think so. I think I am sometimes.”

David opened his eyes. “I’ve wondered if you’re… tired, too, sometimes,” he admitted. “I think it’s too early to tell. Plus, you’ve got an… exhausting situation at home, which I know doesn’t help.”

Max nodded. 

“And I know you didn’t think that I’d understand, but if you ever need to talk about tired days, you can come to me,” David promised. “I do get it.” Max sat down on the floor, his back to David’s bed. 

“Can I maybe… stay in here?” he asked. “It’s kind of… boring out there with you in here. Gwen’s activities aren’t fun.” Max glared before David could get excited. “Not that yours are,” he clarified, “but at least something usually goes hilariously wrong, which is always entertaining.”

David nodded. “Sounds about right,” he said. 

“So… maybe I can nap in here?” he asked.

David patted his bed, tossing a pillow to the other end so Max could lean against the wall at the foot of the bed and play David’s Nintendo DS. 

> Text: David [1:59 pm]

Jsyk, Max is in here with me. 

> Text: Gwen [2:02 pm]

dammit that lil shit. i knew he wasnt getting paper towels

> Text: Gwen [2:02 pm] 

i told him to leave u alone. im sorry

> Text: David [2:03 pm]

Nah, he’s fine. How are the kids?

> Text: Gwen [2:06 pm]

how r u feeling? any better? the kids are all alive--be proud

> Text: David [2:07 pm]

Fine, don’t worry. I’m so proud. Told you you could do it. 

> Text: Gwen [2:07 pm]

its still early

> Text: Gwen [2:07 pm]

the night is young

> Text: Gwen [2:08 pm]

bodies bury best at night anyway

> Text: David [2:09 pm]

Resist. I’m probably going to come to dinner, so I’ll be able to help then.

> Text: Gwen [2:10 pm]

im not actually gonna kill any of them (probs) so if you need more time than that, take it

David looked over at Max, who’d fallen asleep with his DS in his lap. It might be the rapid-cycling talking, but he really did feel better.

> Text: David [2:14 pm]

I’m fine. Not as tired anymore. I’ll see you soon. :)

Sometimes everyone needed a little rest and someone who understood the importance of a much-needed nap.


End file.
